


Who

by SleepySpeedster



Category: Impulse (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Self-Doubt, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 08:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5736496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepySpeedster/pseuds/SleepySpeedster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thad begins to doubt who he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who

           Inside the mirror is a pair of yellow eyes that stared straight back at the blonde. Oxygen cycles through Thad's body with each rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Warm blood flows to pale hands clenched around the bathroom sink while cold sweat clings to his body. He stares deeper into the pair of eyes– into those supposed windows of the soul.  
For them to flicker with energy, to dance with mischief, ideas, pride, confidence, anything was all he had wanted, but he saw nothing. Thad saw nothing within himself.

           “It’s just a mirror.” It was an idiotic idea to begin with he knew. It was foolish, stupid, and asinine yet his chest still felt tight. The idea was all the things he wasn’t. Like superstitions he didn’t believe. He didn't believe in all this– fakery. There was a hard swallow and shuddering breath, but why wouldn’t his eyes tear away from the mirror? To forget it and go on with his day? He knew the answer. He could theorize the why’s. He wanted to see the differences.  
With the same flesh, the same face, and mannerisms that could not escape his ever aware gaze. He wanted to know. Where did the similarities to Bart end and where did Thad begin?

           That cold sweat glided down his scarless arms, and unmarred back, despite years worth of punches and abuse he had suffered and knew at his core. No scars, no distinguishing marks, he was practically a perfect copy. His face wasn’t even his own. Each morning as he passed by that mirror he saw Bart glancing at him with a scornful look.

           Who was he? Was he ever anything? Was he anyone?  
  
           “I am Thad Thawne.” Was his small croak.  
  
           What did that even mean anymore he wondered as he crumpled to the cold tile floor of his small bathroom. His hands were clenched so tight his knuckles had turned white. What did that mean? Who was he? A traitor? A liar? A murderer? A clone? Was that all he could truly be? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to be as he trembled and the threat of tears stung at the corner of his eyes.


End file.
